


Whatever Happens (Don't Stop Singing)

by Brachylagus_fandom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Music, Musical Instruments, Post-Deathly Hallows, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 10:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14018586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brachylagus_fandom/pseuds/Brachylagus_fandom
Summary: The Minister of Magic will visit Hogwarts on Halloween and wants to see the Hogwarts Orchestra and Hogwarts Chamber choir perform.Filius Flitwick, director of Hogwarts' musical extracurriculars, attempts to oblige.





	Whatever Happens (Don't Stop Singing)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/gifts).



On the first Thursday afternoon of the school year, twenty-six Hogwarts students met in the old dueling classroom on the fourth floor. They sat in three rows of wooden chairs facing the stage where students had once battled each other for grades and chatted amongst themselves; nothing would start until Flitwick arrived, and his N.E.W.T. level class always ran late. Sure enough, five minutes later, the tiny man walked in, weaved his way among precariously placed instruments (Matthew Barkwith never seemed to understand the dangers of someone else brushing against his exploding tuba), and mounted the referee's podium at the front of the stage.

 _"Sonorus,"_ Flitwick said quietly. "Welcome, everyone! It's good to see so many people interested in music, especially because I have some very exciting news. As you know, the Minister of Magic is visiting on Halloween, and we - and the Hogwarts Orchestra, of course - have been asked to perform for him!" Flitwick looked at the crowd of students, who were alternately excited and panicking. "Three solos will be available; see me after rehearsal for more details. In honor of the holiday, I have picked a piece of suitably spooky origin. We will be doing Barbara Britten's _Witches' Chant."_ Flitwick waved his wand, and copies of sheet music floated down and into the students' hands.

"The text of this piece is an old witches' chant that Shakespeare edited for use in his play _Macbeth,_ a slight that lead the coven he 'borrowed' it from to- Yes, Miss Summerfield?"

"Professor Flitwick, this stave only has four lines," the first year said.

"Of course it has four lines," Mark Quigg, sitting to her left, said. "What else would it have?"

"Five, like _normal music,"_ Samantha Summerfield said. "It doesn't even have a clef!"

"Samantha, that's for muggle music," Petra Putnam said. "Magical music uses a four-line stave - four lines for the four Hogwarts houses, and seven positions because seven is the Prime of Magic."

"But if you want seven because seven is magical, then why don't you use a seven-line stave?" Samantha asked.

"Because then you'd have thirteen spaces," Mark said.

"No, you'd have _six_. To have thirteen spaces, you'd need-"

"He means positions," Petra said. "To be fair, it has been done before - Iona Malcolm composed the entirety of her Scottish Cycle on a seven-line stave - but Thirteen is the Prime of Chance, and chance is never a good thing to play with. That piece has never been performed in full without a death or severe injury. Besides, a four-line stave is useful; it holds exactly one octave without ledger lines, and you don't have to transpose anything if you change the key."

"Anyways," Flitwick says, " the key to doing this piece is rhythm; the melody is not particularly challenging, but you need to be extremely precise with timing for the sections of the canon to line up properly. Since the first part is in unison, we will rehearse that until we're sure of the melody and timing, and then we will move on to the sections in canon." Flitwick rapped his wand against the blackboard by his side, and the melody line appeared on it. "Would you like to go over words or solfege first?"

***

 _"ONE-two-three-FOUR-five- THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ACCENTED -two-three-FOUR-five-six-ONE-two THAT'S NOT THE DOWNBEAT -five-six-ONE-two - WITH ME, TUBA!!! - five-six-ONE-"_ The Tattle-Tell metronome shrieked at the Hogwarts Orchestra. The entire ensemble had fallen apart; the crumhorns had skipped a measure somewhere, the oboe was a measure behind, the strings had given up on the contradictory beat signals, and Moira Blackburn, playing a particularly loud croaking toad, was still doggedly following the Tattle-Tell metronome, hoping that someone else would join her if she played loudly and persistently enough. Flitwick tapped the metronome once, and it fell silent.

"That's enough for today, I believe," Flitwick said. "We'll work more on rhythm next time. Mister Barkwith, please keep in mind that the purpose of explosions in this piece is to accentuate the beat, not obscure it. Thank you." As the students stowed away their instruments, Flitwick groaned internally; why, why, _why_ had he decided doing _Birnam Wood_ was a good idea? Sure, it was suitably atmospheric for a Halloween concert, and it went thematically with _Witches' Chant,_ but Sinaw Macduff's work required more precision than most, and precision was one of the things his students lacked both in their wandwork and with their instruments. They had a rigid deadline that Flitwick wasn't sure they'd adequately meet.

 _It could be worse,_ Flitwick thought. _There was that time we tried to do_ The Phantom Orchestra, _and Mary Cattermole had a Bubotuber accident three days before the show…_

***

"I think we're ready to try the canon in rhythm," Flitwick said. "Remember, if you get lost, wait until the group ahead of you starts a new line or until the verse finishes. Good luck." Flitwick tapped the Tattle-Tell metronome.

 _"ONE-two-THREE-four-FIVE-six-"_ the Tattle-Tell metronome followed Flitwick's conducting perfectly as he prepared for the first verse. This one was in unison; it would be fine.

 _"Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time."_ They were matching his tempo perfectly - something that didn't always happen - and most of them weren't cutting phrase endings off early. That made him feel better about the canon, which would start… now. _"Double, double."_ he signalled the second group to begin.

 _"Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble,"_ the second group sang precisely two beats behind the first. There were a few slipups, but they were mostly staying on track, and at least they didn't end the verse in unison. So far, so good.

 _"Double, double- double, double- double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble."_ Everything started to fall apart in slow motion. Half the third group joined the second instead, perhaps thinking of the delay on the first part; the ones who cut off the endings of phrases too early faltered, unsure of their part; and the first group kept on barrelling forwards, ignoring the chaos two and four beats behind them.

 _"ONE-two-SECONDS-three- THIRDS, COME IN -two-THREE-four- ONE -two-THREE-four-"_ The Tattle-Tell shouted. Flitwick kept conducting; he wanted to see if they got the unison at the end.

 _"Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, for the ingredients of our cauldron."_ The first group forgot that their ending there was longer than usual, and the other two groups jumped to join them as they split into three-part harmony. _"By the pricking of my thumbs-"_

 _"YOU'RE FLAT-three-four,"_ The Tattle-Tell metronome shrieked.

 _"-something wicked this way comes! Something wicked this way comes! Some-thing wick-ed this… way… comes!"_ Flitwick beamed.

"That went rather well for a first attempt," he said. The students looked at him, confused. "Now, before we do anything else, let's practice the ending transition. Remember, firsts, that your 'ingredients of our cauldron' is lengthened to allow the other parts to catch up; thirds, yours is particularly short so that everyone ends that phrase together." The students nodded. They had work to do, but their piece was coming along rather well, considering the time they'd had to rehearse it. Of course, Halloween was in thirty-three days, and they had a _lot_ more work to do before then, but it was a start.

***

"Let's go over the witches' section," Flitwick said at the beginning of string sectionals. "We have the opening part down, and you're consistent on the marching section and ending if you have a steady beat." _Not that Mister Barkwith is getting much more consistent at providing it._ Flitwick took a pitch pipe out of his pocket and tapped it with his wand; it started playing a middle C. The students took out their wands.

 _"Emodulare,"_ the students recited while tapping their instruments. Flitwick would forever love Cecilia Payne, an enterprising young Slytherin seven or eight decades ago, for coming up with that spell; while it took a while to be accustomed to the "proper" intervals it provided, the tuning was much more accurate than anything the wizarding world had been able to accomplish before it. He tapped the Tattle-Tell metronome, and it began to count in time with his slow, steady beat.

"Miss Stroud, if you would start us off," Flitwick said, and Abigail stroud began to crank her hurdy-gurdy. It was an awkward instrument to play, particularly since this particular model had undergone significant spellwork to give it eight strings where normally only four would fit, but Abigail's fingers were quick and dexterous, and she had taken to the new instrument with ease. After the eight bars where the woodwinds joined the hurdy-gurdy melody, Flitwick motioned for the violins to come in and then the cello. The chitarrone, providing a secondary bass line, came in last.

The harmony in this section was complex, particularly in the strings section, which had five parts and only seven people, and the strange rhythms over an accelerando only made it more difficult. As Flitwick gradually sped up his conducting, the Tattle-Tell metronome kept time with him. While one of the violins lagged behind slightly, most of the section took to the odd rhythms and odder harmonies with ease; the only real problem was reading through the layers of repeat signs and alternate endings. (Abigail, the ocarina player, both of the flutists, and Moira had given up on decoding the repeat signs and simply transcribed their lines with the repeats and endings fully written out; their only problem was keeping track of where they were in their constantly repeating lines.) Still, when compared with the disarray of yesterday's rehearsal, it was progress, and with the concert in less than a week, Flitwick would take all the progress he could find right now.

***

When Moira Blackburn knocked on his office door the day before Halloween, Flitwick knew something had gone terribly wrong; Moira always sought out Professor Sprout, her head of house, before him, and they had reached the point where any problems couldn't be easily fixed before the Minister arrived. Sure enough, when he opened the door, she was holding her toad under one arm and the collar of the robes of one of her yearmates in the other hand.

"What happened?" Filius asked.

"Amanda used Herbert for Transfiguration practice," she said, "and now he's not croaking properly! He's all off-key; his fourth is higher than his perfect fifth!" Flitwick winced; magical toads resisted all known tuning charms, so the only way to put Herbert back into key would be to retransfigure his vocal cords, and the croaks of the other toads on campus were either too high or extremely unreliable.

"Have you asked Professor McGonagall?" Flitwick asked.

"She was having a meeting with someone," Moria said. Flitwick sighed; _of course_ Minerva was in a meeting when they needed a transfiguration of her subtlety.

"Leave Herbert with me," Flitwick said. "I'll ask Professor McGonagall to fix him later." Moira nodded, set Herbert on his desk, and left without releasing her grip on her roommate. Herbert the toad gave a strained-sounding croak; it sounded like someone (or several someones) had already tried to fix his vocal cords and failed. Minerva would certainly have her work cut out for her.

***

The members of the Hogwarts Orchestra clustered backstage as Isadora Redferne belted her way through one of the wizarding world's' favorite arias. Just as she began the last phrase of the piece, Moira Blackburn ran up, Herbert tucked under her left arm.

"Is he croaking right?" one of the flutists whispered. Moira nodded.

"His tritone is off, but we don't need that today," she whispered back.

"Thank you to Isadora Redferne for her lovely rendition of 'Proofs of My Pain' from Maddox's _Fourtune's Fountain_ ," Flitwick said as the harpsichord accompaniment finished. "Isadora is a seventh year and plans to attend the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts, focusing on Voice and Technical Magics, once she graduates. Up next is the Hogwarts Orchestra performing Macduff's _Birnham Wood."_ The members of the Hogwarts Orchestra hustled onto the stage and quickly tuned their instruments as Flitwick explained the piece's history to the audience.

Flitwick turned to face the Orchestra, raised his wand, and the orchestra began to play. They easily followed the assorted ritardandos and accelerandos in the piece, and even the maze of repetition and second endings didn't seem to faze them. Herbert the toad wasn't as resonant as he normally was - Minerva had said that his vocal folds needed to heal further on their own and that it would come back in time - but he was more or less directly on pitch.

Then the transition to the battle section happened. (It had occurred to Flitwick that, while they had done both sections extensively, they probably should have gone over the bridge connecting them a few more times; however, this thought only came the night before, so there was little he could do about it.) Matthew Barkwith's exploding tuba sounded more often on the pickup than on the downbeat, where it was supposed to, and the orchestra was beginning to split between those trying to use Matthew as a beat and those following Moira Blackburn and the drums. The chitarrone skipped two beats, and one of the flutes, not to be outdone, skipped an entire measure. However, they ended more or less in unison, and those who didn't know the piece extensively (like the frowning Clara Fenwick, Director of Musical Studies at W.A.D.A.) wouldn't be able to distinguish between the unintended clashes and those already in the music.

"Thank you to the Hogwarts Orchestra! Our next performer is sixth year Petra Putnam, who will be singing 'On My Own' from the muggle musical _Les Miserables._ " Petra, her cheeks bright red from a last-minute bout of stage fright, walked onto the stage. Flitwick smiled at her and waved his wand at the harpsichord; it dutifully began to pluck out the accompaniment. As soon as she began to sing, Petra's nerves disappeared. "Thank you to Petra Putnam for that lovely solo. Next, the Hogwarts Chamber Choir will perform Barbara Britten's _Witches' Chant,_ accompanied by seventh year Moira Blackburn on bells." The choir members walked onto the stage as Moria levitated a bell-laden table to her position near the harpsichord. With a flick of her wand, the bells floated in the air in front of her, and she gave Flitwick a single nod. Flitwick began to conduct.

 _"Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time. Round about the cauldron go; in the poison'd entrails throw. Toad, that under cold stone, days and nights has thirty-one, swelter'd venom sleeping got, boil thou first i' the charmed pot."_ Moira's bells rang in a fairly simple pattern as she stared at them intently; focus was the prime determiner of success in "phantom playing". This part went off without a hitch, but it had been going off without a hitch since halfway through September. The next part would be a bit trickier.

_"Double, double- double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. Fillet of a fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake; eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and-"_

_BOOM!_ The sound of an improperly stored tuba exploding backstage shook the room's windows. Flitwick paused to check if anyone was injured. A limping Abigail Stroud, who had blood trickling from one ear, gave him a thumbs-up sign as she walked towards the hospital wing.

"From the beginning of the verse," Flitwick said.

 _"Double, double- double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. Fillet of a fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake; eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog, adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, lizard's leg and owlet's wing. For a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth boil and bubble!"_ Moira's line was more complex now as she supported both vocal parts, and it was only about to get more difficult.

 _"Double, double- double, double- double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, witches' mummy, maw and gulf of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark."_ The canon was starting to slip, but the members of the third group who knew what they were doing pushed on regardless. _"Cool it with a baboon's blood, then the charm is firm and good. Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, for the ingredients of our cauldron."_ At least they ended in unison there this time; last week, the third part had ended first as the first group stretched on forever. _"By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes! Something wicked this way comes! Some… thing wick… ed… this… way… comes!"_ The ending chord was perfectly in tune. Flitwick allowed himself to relax.

"Thank you to the Hogwarts Chamber Choir! Our final performance of the night will be seventh years Anne Bixby and Andrew Caufield, who will be singing 'Old Photos' from Sullivan's new musical _After the War,_ which tells the stories of a muggleborn witch, two half-bloods, and a former Death Eater as they attempt to move on after Voldemort's first defeat."

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this fic is just "indulgent choir hijinks with a tiny bit of thought put into magical instruments and why the choir at the beginning of Prisoner of Azkaban had toads", but a couple of technical things:  
> \- Barbara Britten is a blatant stand-in for Benjamin Britten. Britten's "The Ride-By-Nights" sounds a bit like "Double Trouble" from the Prisoner of Azkaban movie, though "Witches' Chant" is more structurally based on "This Little Babe."  
> \- The reason Macbeth is supposedly cursed actually is that he stole the witches' chants from a coven that took offense. The text of "Witches' Chant" is lifted almost directly from Macbeth with some editing/revision to get all the verses to be the same length.  
> \- The Four-Line Staff - The Statute of Secrecy was created (and muggle and magical musical traditions presumably split) after staves replaced neumes for notation purposes but well before the 5-line staff was the established standard.  
> \- A chittarone is a giant lute (up to six feet in length), an ocarina is a vaguely egg-shaped flute, and a crumhorn is an early woodwind instrument that looks like a snorkel. A hurdy-gurdy, depending on how you look at it, is either an oversized music box or to a guitar what an accordion is to a bellows.  
> \- A dueling classroom would have a decent size ( _very_ important for mass rehearsals) and would have decent acoustics. Also, dueling is probably pretty noisy, so it would already be located appropriately far away from other, non-noisy activities.  
>  \- The tuning spell tunes to just intervals rather than using an EDO (Evenly Divided Octave) system, which is what is used in modern tuning and which slightly distorts non-octave intervals to make tuning possible.


End file.
